


Addicted

by LilacMist



Series: jeritza/byleth oneshots we die like men [4]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, but first there's so much pining, eventually they cuddle, so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 04:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacMist/pseuds/LilacMist
Summary: He shouldn't have taken it.It was only for a few seconds, enough for her to pull him up, but it was enough. The tender strength, the caring gaze, and her hand clasped against his.He's addicted.





	Addicted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpecterOfSong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpecterOfSong/gifts).

> me in my brain, holding the writer me at gunpoint: don't you dare make this angsty. don't. it's fluff.
> 
> writer me, sobbing: i'll try
> 
> no betas what's new

Once. That's all it takes to get addicted. So, Jeritza shut himself out from everything and everyone he had ever loved. He cannot return to those days when he was alive, when he had a soul, and when he had a future. He is an empty suit of armor barreling towards death. That's why he shouldn't, why he mustn't, why he _can't_.

It happens their third spar together. He had thoroughly bested her the first two, but this time, she finally has a strategy to disarm him, taking him completely unawares. Byleth is beyond giddy. She towers above him, sweaty and tired, but that doesn't stop her from giggling and grinning from ear to ear. He tries not to take his eyes off of her as he gets back to his feet. She notices him moving and offers her hand to help him up. She's radiant, smiling down at him with warm, welcoming eyes. He's entranced. Hesitating for only a second, he reaches up and takes her hand.

He shouldn't have taken it.

It was only for a few seconds, enough for her to pull him up, but it was enough. The tender strength, the caring gaze, and her hand clasped against his.

He's addicted.

***

Sometimes, he wanders from the training grounds and finds himself outside her classroom door. All it takes is the sound of her voice, and a dull ache spreads from his hand, consuming his entire self with longing. He is never alone with his thoughts, anymore. What used to be filled with techniques of battle is now sick, morbid curiosity about how her arms would feel around his waist, if her hair is as soft as it looks, and what sorts of sweet nothings she would whisper in his ear if she craved him as much as he does her. These thoughts are unfitting of someone like him--someone already dead. Yet when she places her hand on his shoulder and lets her fingers trail down his arm, she breathes life into his corpse. When she appears at his door in the morning, inviting him with her wide, bright eyes to spar with her before lectures begin, the empty pit in his stomach catches fire. He burns for her and the attention she lavishes on him.

She has a soul. Souls vitalize. His soulless husk enervates. They are opposites, hanging in balance, waiting for the day the scales tip and destroy one of them. He fears his darkness will swallow her up, but he can't help but wish that day upon them, if only it meant he could feel her hand in his once more.

He loathes how deeply he he wants, no, he _needs_ her. She has consumed him completely, breaking apart his crafted seal separating him from the world with one simple act of friendship, and now he needs her to survive. Her interest in him sparked his in her, and there is no going back. He's addicted to her. 

***

"Jeritza? May I come in?"

He can't refuse her, so he beckons her into his quarters. Her eyes sparkle, but there is an underlying uneasiness in her stance. She shuffles over to his bed and sits down, patting the space beside her. Robotically, he follows her. Her face is tense, and he should say something to calm her, but nothing comes to mind. The ache is back, and all he can think of is how much wants to tackle her, wrap his arms around her, and feel how warm she is pressed up against him.

_NO!_ This is wrong. He is dead, and she is alive. He needs to refuse her outright. Go cold turkey. Never see her again.

She reaches over and places her hand on his, and the low ache roars into a raging fire. "How do I put this? I wanted to know if, well if _you_ would be okay with..." she mumbles to herself, and he doesn't hear, because her fingers are lacing themselves with his, she's _so close_, and now she's looking into his eyes. She bites her tongue, takes a deep breath, and finally spits out,

"Can I kiss you?"

***

He's addicted to her. All of her. When her arms hook around his neck and her legs tangle with his, he is alive again. When she gasps for air before enveloping his mouth with hers, feeling his teeth and tasting his tongue, his heart, long thought dead, skips a beat. When she pulls away and turns her back to him, pulling his arms around her torso and hugging them tight, he is filled with a warmth he has not felt since his days with his mother and sister.

When she whispers "I love you," he buries his nose in her hair and prays that these days never have to end.

**Author's Note:**

> i got to hold my bf's hand for the first time in months on saturday, and that full-body ache hurted
> 
> i just want them to h*g and k*ss IS, is that too much to ask


End file.
